


Kinktober Day 3: Mass

by The_Baron_Cosmos



Category: Original Work
Genre: Birthday Party, Body Worship, Cock Worship, Dark Elves, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Fantasy, Hedonism, High Fantasy, Kimono, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, M/M, Magic, Public Blow Jobs, Sexual Fantasy, Wine, Worship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-03
Updated: 2020-10-03
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:27:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26796610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Baron_Cosmos/pseuds/The_Baron_Cosmos
Summary: KINKTOBER DAY THREE: WORSHIPRory has landed a pretty sweet gig as the royalty's head advisor. This role has its benefits, including top billing at the castle's legendary parties. Tonight's revelry is in his own name, and an unexpected friend from a high place comes around to join in the fun.Credit to h0rnyghost on Twitter for their Kinktober prompt.
Kudos: 8





	Kinktober Day 3: Mass

Being a deity was a drag sometimes. As much fun as Komma had, and he had a lot of it, he often went days, or even weeks, without a real break. His domain was in the dark corners of house parties, in the kitchens of royal galas, and in the hearths of public houses. He staked claim on the parts of life most full of life, in the ways people mixed and mingled. This made his job an important one, at least to him; he breathed life into the aura of a dimly lit dining room, he made the finger food at the balls taste a little magical, and, on occasion, he got the right person naked at the right time. Sometimes, that was just what a party needed.  
This wasn’t always a lot of fun, though. Komma found himself often getting a party started, and then spending the next few hours keeping those within it safe and content. Sometimes, it was enough stress to make him wish he could have a party all to himself.  
So, on an evening when he found himself light on responsibility, he went looking for some fun trouble. One particular event sounded promising; an afterparty to the birthday of a royal advisor. These things weren’t usually the most exciting events, but this particular kingdom had a… strange way about their royalty. Komma had lurked about the castle’s halls a few times before, bearing witness to balls and galas which always seemed to get a little too loose for your normal royalty. Rumors stalked alongside him that the kings of this land were hedonists, to put it lightly.  
He arrived at the event fashionably late, just missing the royal dinner. It wasn’t what he was interested in anyway. As the table was cleared and the party moved to the ballroom, Komma followed, inviting himself in.  
This evening he took his favorite physical form, that of a tall human with broad shoulders and a sharp jaw and eyes which dazzled just a touch too brightly. He wore his best, but not too much. He looked positively heavenly, of course.  
He raised a glass to toast. A hundred and tenth birthday for Rory, the advisor. So he was a drow; Komma caught a glimpse of the elf in question, with his white hair falling over his shoulder in a rehearsed and practiced manner. Rory was also dressed quite well, wearing a kimono in such vivid color that it was even more incredible how the drow’s golden eyes still stood out from across the room.   
Komma knew what he wanted.  
He stood back for some time, drinking slowly and watching the party unfold. A band played, gifts were presented one at a time to a flattered Rory, and all in all, it was a good time. Not good enough for Komma yet.  
Drow worshipped some of the stranger deities, at least in the past. While he never deluded himself as to consider himself to be a figurehead of their ancient culture, Komma knew he was held higher by drow than by any other culture in history. As such, drow parties had a distinct reputation for quickly evolving into… Well, exactly what Komma wanted.  
It didn’t take much effort at all to get things moving. Rory’s friends and acquaintances had come a long way to participate in this party, and they expected the best. After all, they’d heard the rumors. This castle was the place for this kind of event. What Komma didn’t expect was that the kings would be the ones to kick things off, with the consort having his husband, the undisputed sovereign of one of the most powerful kingdoms on the continent, right at the drink table. It was a truly impressive show, but Komma knew they’d done things like this frequently enough to become good at it.  
It wasn’t the royalty he cared for, though. They could enjoy each other all they wanted. Komma moved toward Rory, who stood aside and drank white wine as the party escalated. This white wine; he could smell it as he passed the debauched drink table. It was his. Grown from vineyards touched by his deified magic, it had only limited magical effects, including cutting inhibition and pretense, but it was some of the highest quality wine anyone could hope to get their hands on.   
More importantly, it meant that at least someone here knew who he was.  
Komma approached the drow casually, catching his eye. Rory looked up at Komma, raising his finely curated eyebrows at the deity. “Hmm?” He asked quietly, just a hum of wonderment. “Who might you be? I don’t think I know you.”  
“But you do,” Komma returned, walking past Rory from behind and stopping on his left. “I think you know just who I am. I know you’ve prayed in my name before,” Komma mused with some humor. “And I know you’re drinking my wine.” Komma rattled his own, half-empty glass.  
“No…” Rory’s mouth came agape slowly. “At my birthday? I- I am flattered. Ah- call me Rory,” the drow offered, giving a small curtsy to the deity.  
“Please, I don’t need the niceties.” Komma gave a small glance to the royalty rattling the table, as if to point out Rory’s irony. “Rory, I know this evening is for you.” The deity set his hand on Rory’s shoulder, A peculiar sensation spread through Rory’s whole body, easing him a bit. “But would you be willing to, well, worship me tonight?”  
Rory hiccuped a bit. What could that possibly mean? It was so vague. It had been a long while since Rory had properly worshipped anything. Still, looking up at Komma, Rory couldn’t help but feel a creeping sensation of obligation. He, tentatively, nodded.  
Komma’s grin spread. His hand slid to Rory’s upper arm, pulling him a bit. “Oh, good. You’ll do great.” The god pulled Rory away from his gifts and his friends, over to an empty chair, where the deity let go of Rory. By this point, Rory honestly felt a bit dizzy from it all, spinning in Komma’s mischief. Komma sat in the chair.  
He set his drink aside and snapped his fingers. Just like that, without any sort of flair or noise, his clothes vanished. This man, this deity, sat nude before Rory. It left Rory speechless.  
“Well?” Komma gestured to himself, to his toned abdomen and tight waist, his wide thighs and half-attentive length. “Worship me.”  
It wasn’t a request anymore. It wasn’t even a suggestion; it was a command from a higher power. Rory nodded quickly, lowering to his knees and getting in front of Komma, who lifted his glass again. “Good.”  
Rory looked up at Komma with his golden eyes, beginning to roll his soft, grey hands over Komma’s thighs. He began to stroke Komma’s length, trying to get him hard. Gods, what a thought. Getting the deity of good sex hard. And it worked! Komma leaned back, sighing contentedly. He sipped his wine as Rory eased his soft, painted lips over Komma’s uncut cock.  
Some people stole glances. Komma had that effect, and he began to willingly enhance it. After all, he loved to lead by example. He lifted his glass to his lips again, but wine ran down his chest in rivulets, rolling down to where Rory was currently straining his reflexes. Komma tangled his hand in Rory’s hair, pulling him off slowly and making soft eye contact. Looking into the eyes of a deity certainly felt like… something. But Komma was not just doing this for the romance. He drew Rory’s attention to the wet streak of wine, and bid forth another command. “Get that for me.”  
Rory was in no position to argue- not that he would. In that moment, he brought himself up, dragging his cotton-soft tongue over Komma’s tan skin and lifting the sweet wine off. His lips and teeth brushed the thin hairs on Komma’s midriff, coming up and sucking on his chest just below his pectoral. It was addictive, and just what Komma wanted.  
Soon, though, Komma wanted more. He set his hand on Rory’s cheek, and the drow, absolutely lost in his worship, just began to mouth at Komma’s fingers, getting his lips around the knuckles. Komma chuckled. “Oh, I haven’t had a priest in a while… You’d make a good one.” Komma sighed. “Get back down, Rory. I haven’t finished.”  
Rory obeyed, coming back between Komma’s knees and quickly returning to fitting the god’s shaft into his mouth. Komma took a more active role now, setting his guiding hand on the back of Rory’s head and forcing the drow to let his throat get fucked. Not that it took much forcing. Rory worked his tongue and lips like the proficient he was, tears welling and taking some eyeliner with them.  
Komma had to admit, it was quite the show of talent. His shaft pulsed with tension. Rory’s lipstick smeared across the shaft, mingling with spit and streaking his shaft with Rory’s shade of silver. Komma bucked his hips up as his hand came down, jamming his cock as deep into Rory’s throat as it could reasonably get. All the while, Rory’s hands slid up Komma’s chest, still worshipping in every way he could.  
The god finally came with little warning beside more precum and more hip lifting. He held Rory all the way down, breathing with his cheeks as cum, spit, and lipstick flooded past Rory’s lips, dripping over the drow’s chin and the fabric of the chair, flooding Rory’s throat and nostrils. It was everywhere, slick and hot. Komma slowly eased Rory off of his cock, fixing his (ruined beyond repair) hair.  
Komma grinned, watching Rory begin to swallow the cum back and sit up. Komma pulled him back in. “You aren’t finished,” he beckoned. “Worship every drop of my seed.”  
It was a daunting prospect; there was a lot of cum, and it was all over. But Rory went to work, cleaning Komma’s cock in the same way he did his chest, all lips and tongue and light grazing with his front teeth. Before he even knew it, he had done it all, sighing contentedly and finally leaning back. Komma let him.  
The rest of the party was something of a haze. People became drunker, Komma drifted from partygoer to partygoer, and almost everyone had an opportunity to worship him. He even paid his respects to the royalty, who showed theirs in return.  
By the end of the night, as people found places to settle for the evening, Komma drifted through the halls again, making sure everyone was safe and sated. He ended with Rory, who sat by the table, examining one of the books he’d been gifted.  
Komma set his hand on Rory’s shoulder again, looking down at the drow. “Let me know if you ever feel… Reverent. I’ll be around.” And just like that, like his clothes hours earlier, he disappeared into thin air.


End file.
